My Forever
by Tinkerbell Faerie 2
Summary: [BB] Brennan takes an overseas assignment. Goes missing and we know her ability to get into trouble. So does Booth. How do Booth and friends react? Sappy, Angsty, Romantic! R&R people! [No char death] CHAP 8 UP
1. An Assignment

**Summary: **Brennan takes an overseas assignment. Goes missing. How do Booth and friends react? Sappy, Angsty, Romantic! BB

**AN: **Ever have a story idea that you'd be thrilled to read if it's done correctly, but you're so damn sure you're not the one to write it? Yeah. That's this one.

Also - It's written partly in flashback, and that's sort of a pet peeve of mine. I know, I can't believe I am using it either.

**Disclaimer: **Bones, et. al belong to Fox. I am not Fox. Although some boys happen to think I'm foxy. Not the same thing, though.

* * *

**An Assignment**

* * *

Special Agent Seeley Booth stared at the phone that sat on his desk. He sighed. It was still silent. He turned back to the folder open in front of him, pretending to do work. He'd been pretending for the last half-hour, just counting the minutes until seven pm. Her call always came between seven and seven-fifteen on Mondays. Her calls to Angela came between seven and seven-fifteen on Thursdays. Mondays and Thursdays quickly became the days the team met at Wong Foo's for a late dinner, each night discussing the conversations with his fearless girl. 

She'd been gone almost the full eight months on assignment for the State Department. An assignment that he had been restricted from, not that he would have wanted to go to the Sudan. But he would have gone. For her. He glanced at the phone, again, willing it to ring.

He sighed, heavily. He hadn't even known where Brennan was going, not until she'd already left and Cullen had let it slip a few weeks ago. He'd been terrified of her going off on her own, without him. Hell, he was still terrified. Sure there were thousands of UN peacekeeping troops and State Department security, but that didn't really calm his fears. He wasn't going to be there to protect her. He didn't know if she was truly safe.

He glanced at the clock, _7:09_, and his eyes came to rest on the phone once again. _Come on, you damn phone. RING!_

* * *

_Booth stood on the platform, staring at Brennan. Her eyebrows were raised expectantly, as if she required a response. But, honestly, he was dumbfounded. _

_"Booth. I asked you what you thought," she was getting impatient, and he knew he had to stutter out an answer soon, or she'd get angrier. _

_"You wanna know what I think? I think you shouldn't go anywhere without me!" Oh, God. Did I really just say that out loud? Shit._

_"I … I shouldn't go anywhere without you?!" Brennan asked, incredulous. "Because, of course, I cannot take care of myself, is that what you're saying?" Her angry tirade had energy, and she stormed up the stairs to her office, slamming the door for emphasis when he'd barely made it inside. _

_Booth shook his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. But are you seriously considering leaving m-… the team, for eight months? And going someplace overseas that could be incredibly dangerous? What about Angela? What about your work with the FBI?" _

_Brennan sighed, "This is really important work, Booth, that –" _

_"That you can't tell me about," he snorted. _

_"Important State Department, Confidential work, Booth. You only have Top Secret Clearance, not SCI. I'm sorry, I can't tell you," Brennan's voice was firm, but soft. "Angela will be fine, she's got support in Hodgins. And the FBI has a new doctor here at the Jeffersonian: Dr. Addy. They won't even know I'm gone, he's that good." _

_"Bones," Booth's voice was wavering, and he cleared his throat to cover it. He tried again, unable to meet her eyes, and with an unconvincing voice, "What about us?" _

_Had he been looking at her, he would have seen the shock on her face at the implications of his words. Those three words sent her mind reeling. She felt so many things run through her, she was unsure how long she was silent. Booth kept his eyes trained away from her, down toward the small Ficus tree that sat in the corner of her office. He refused to speak, lest his voice give way again. _

_Her resolve faltered as she took in his crestfallen expression, and his sudden insecurity. So many thoughts entered her head, and she realized she was leaving him. Like so many others had left her. One thought won out, though, and she realized they meant something to each other, though she couldn't define what exactly. It confused her, and instead of over-analyzing like she normally did, she followed what Booth called her 'gut'. She reached her left hand out to caress his cheek, which brought his sorrowful eyes back to hers. His warm hand covered hers, and she shivered. _

_Her response to him was the only thing that kept him from grounding her airplane by whatever means necessary. _

_"I will come back to you, Seeley. I promise. I will come back. To you."_

* * *

**Please review... It means the world to a poor little fox like me...**


	2. Missing

**AN: **Ah, chapter 2 in such a short time? Yeah, I'm hoping it will get people to review. _(hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink)_

**Disclaimer: **Please understand. If these guys were mine, there never would have been a Cam. But then, I'd have jumped the shark and no one would have been interested anymore.

* * *

**Missing**

* * *

Deputy Director Cullen paused in the doorway, his eyes resting on who would have been his favorite agent, if he was allowed to have favorites. Cullen noticed how Booth's eyes had flicked to his phone several times in the span of a minute. He sighed. He didn't want to have this conversation with Booth, but after the phone call he'd just gotten, it was necessary. 

Cullen had not become Deputy Director by accident. He'd earned it fair and square, working his way up the ladder and networking with the appropriate people. He had been smart enough to keep in touch with most of his contacts, and had earned the respect of many people in the US government, which is why he knew where Dr. Temperance Brennan had gone, and why he had gotten the phone call today.

Cullen stepped into the office, and Booth raised his head, surprise coloring his features. Usually, he was called to Cullen's office; and he couldn't remember Cullen ever coming to him, and this immediately put Booth on edge.

He stood, "Sir. I - … What can I help you with?" Booth assumed a case was the most likely reason Cullen was in his office.

"Booth, please sit. I don't have a case for you, I need to-"

The phone rang, and Booth lunged for it, completely ignoring the Deputy Director in front of him. "Booth," he answered, with hope evident on his face. But, when the person on the other end of the line began to speak, Booth's face fell, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, Taylor, that's fine. I'll get the paperwork from you tomorrow. Thanks."

Resting the handset on the cradle, Booth sighed. His eyes remained locked on the phone, his agitation growing as the minutes ticked by. _Why isn't she calling?_

"Booth."

Booth, startled, brought his eyes back to Cullen. He'd completely forgotten Cullen was there, and offered an apologetic smile and a shrug, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm waiting for an important call."

"Yes, Agent Booth. I know. Dr. Brennan." Cullen supplied. To which Booth nodded, staring at the phone again.

The silence between the two men was deafening. Cullen wasn't one to soften any blows, but his next sentence really caught Booth off guard.

"She won't be calling tonight," Cullen started, unsure of Booth's reaction to this news.

"What?" Booth was confused. Looking at Cullen's face, though, Booth's heart stopped, and he could feel a sinking sensation across his entire body. "What do you know?" he asked quietly.

Cullen sighed, "I got a call," he began, "from a contact I have at the State Department. Something happened in Darfur, and Dr. Brennan's team was ambushed. As of right now, your Dr. Brennan is unaccounted for."

Booth dropped heavily into his chair, a dull roar rushing through his ears, unaware of the silent tears spilling down his face.

* * *

_Angela sighed. That day, she had wallowed for a few hours until she heard the commotion on the platform, and realized that Booth was taking it just as hard as she had. She had watched the exchange, and had heard the door slam; Angela had felt sorry for Booth. She had to admit, she was feeling selfish, too, wanting Brennan to stay. But, she knew her friend, and knew this was something she wanted to do. _

_The day of departure was slowly approaching, and Angela was worrying more and more about Brennan and Booth's relationship. Since Brennan had announced her eight month sabbatical, things around the lab had been strained. Booth rarely stopped by the lab even when there was casework; he'd resorted to phone calls and emails, which was entirely unlike Booth. _

_Angela slouched sideways against the door frame of Brennan's office, silently observing her friend. Brennan was sitting at her desk, a pen poised in her right hand, a case file in front of her, and staring off into space. _

_"Bren?" Angela said softly, yet still startling her friend, "Sweetie, are you okay?" _

_Brennan shot a surprised look at Angela, and shook her head as if to clear the thoughts that had been dancing in front of her moments ago. "I'm fine, Ange. Just need to finish this paperwork so Zach doesn't have to do it after I leave on Monday." _

_Angela straightened up, entering her office and shutting the door quietly. "Bren. Something is going on in that pretty little head of yours, and this may be the last chance I get to bother you about it for eight months." Angela attempted a joke, as she settled herself on the sofa. She intended to stay right there until they had this conversation. _

_Brennan was silent and Angela was patient (for once). When Brennan got up from her desk and started pacing the room, Angela maintained her gaze on her friend, and kept her mouth shut. She could see the wheels turning in Brennan's head, and this time she wasn't going to interrupt her train of thought. _

_Finally, Brennan came to a stop in front of the couch, and looked resolutely at Angela, with a face that indicated she was about to spill a huge secret. _

_"Booth's not taking this well." _

_Angela suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, "No, he's not, Bren." _

_"I don't know what happened. Our partnership operated more smoothly after he began seeing the therapist, and he's been much happier since … well, since Sully left. I think he was glad to get his 'turf' back." Brennan used air quotes (appropriately, thought Angela) around the word turf. _

_"He was also glad to get you back." Angela was expecting the usual exclamation that followed this type of comment about Booth and Brennan. Angela could not suppress her surprise when she heard Brennan's quiet admission. _

_"I know." _

_"Tell me," Angela prodded, unsure of what Brennan had figured out on her own. _

_Brennan shot her a pointed look, crossing her arms, and Angela pushed again, "Talk it out. I can help, I promise. Even if you don't want me to give any advice, it will be good to talk it out." _

_After a small pause, Brennan spoke in a frustrated whisper, "Wh - … I don't… I – Oh, Ange," Brennan sank into a chair opposite Angela, her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. "I have no idea what's going on. He asked, 'what about us?' and I told him I'd come back." Brennan paused, lifting her eyes to Angela with a look of puzzled shock on her face, "I told him I'd come back to him." _

_Angela was impressed. And excited. And sad. She waited, though; she knew there was more. _

_"Ange, since then, he's been avoiding me. Assuming he knew what I meant, I guess I thought we'd spend more time together, not less. Anthropologically speaking, though, if he assumes we're still just partners and he doesn't expect me to," here, Brennan took a deep breath, "return," she exhaled, "I suppose it is self-preservation." _

_"What did you mean when you said that, Bren?" Angela knew hoping for an admission of love was out of the question. _

_"It's… He's… You know I don't…" _

_Angela grabbed Brennan's hands, which had been fidgeting and playing with her own fingers. She'd never seen her friend this flustered. _

_Brennan looked up, "I can't explain it. I don't know if I believe in forever. But, if I did, he'd be it." _

_Angela pulled her into a hug, whispering to her friend, "Then, tell him that."_

* * *

**AN 2:** Maybe it is unrealistic to think that Brennan would figure it out, and be the one to first admit it out loud. Or maybe it's just OOC. Apologies. 


	3. Too Much Silence

**AN:** Well, here's the next installment. It gets kind of twisty with the words. But it explains where Brennan went, as well as some things about the rest of the team.

**Disclaimer:** Dear Fox, Please consider the attached story as my application for Staff Writer for your hit TV series _Bones._ As you can see, I'm pretty brilliant. Even my mom says so. You know you want to hire me.

* * *

**Too Much Silence**

* * *

The State Department had set a meeting for the following day. State wasn't required to meet with the FBI about this situation, but Booth suspected it was out of respect for Cullen, who had requested the presence of Brennan's boss and best friend for the meeting. 

Angela arrived at the Hoover building earlier than the others with a question for Booth. She hesitated in his doorway, observing the lost man before him. He was slouched in his chair, wearing yesterday's clothes which were seriously wrinkled, and she wondered if he'd even left the office. He was staring intently at a silver picture frame on his desk. He looked like he'd aged a few years overnight.

Knocking on the doorframe as a formality, she stepped into the office and unceremoniously dropped herself into the chair opposite Booth's desk, pulling off her hat and scarf. Booth could tell she hadn't slept since she'd heard the news. He guiltily recalled that he hadn't been the one to call her, but then again, he hadn't known what to do with himself all night.

"Hey." His greeting was quiet, almost too quiet. He looked toward her, but Angela wasn't sure he saw her.

Angela knew Booth was hurting. But she was hurting too. Right now, they were both suffering in their own worlds. So, she came straight to the point. "Why am I here for this meeting? I mean, I appreciate it. I really want to know what is going on, but I don't know why I'm here." Angela shook her head.

Booth's response lacked any emotion. He shrugged, "You get the phone calls too."

Angela was almost frightened at Booth's detachment. She knew he would erupt eventually, and hoped he didn't end up hurting himself – or someone else – in the process. She knew something had transpired between the two before she left, she had the text message to prove it. But she wasn't about to push, not with Bren several thousand miles away.

Interrupting the silence, Cullen stopped in the doorway of Booth's office, "Ready?" He left without a response. Both Angela and Booth looked at each other, and rose, making their way across the bustling office.

In the conference room were several men Booth didn't know. Cullen sat at the end of the long table, taking the place of distinction. Cam sat on his right, with her hands folded in front of her. Booth gave her the once over and snorted;_ She looks like she's slept._ Catching his eye, Cam offered a small smile. Booth stared blankly at her, and shook his head; sitting on Cullen's left with Angela next to him. Cullen, always aware of human behavior, noted with a sad smile where Angela's unconscious allegiances lay.

Booth hadn't seen Cam in a few weeks, and he was glad for that. The few cases in which the FBI needed Jeffersonian help had gone through Zach Addy. Booth had not had much incentive to just drop by the Jeffersonian, now that his Bones wasn't there. The few times he'd been there in the last few months, he'd purposefully kept his eyes away from her dark and empty office. He also rarely involved Dr. Addy in the investigations, only in the recovery of the remains.

Zach, despite being a squint, had understood and voiced his understanding very succinctly. "It's okay, Agent Booth. I understand. Dr. Brennan is your partner. I'm just a temp." To this, Booth had nodded slowly, in a bit of shock at Zach's acute perception. _Maybe Zach's not so bad after all,_ he had thought.

Booth was startled out of his reverie by a man speaking to the room. For some reason, he felt a surge of anger toward the g-men in front of him, as if it was their fault his Bones was missing. His hands balled into tight fists on the tabletop, and he gritted his teeth in an effort to stave off his anger. Angela heard his short intake of breath, and shot him a look, before placing a warm hand over his balled fist.

"Good morning. I'm Adam Hanks, from State. I'd like to assure you that we are doing everything in our power to locate the missing members of our team. A couple of things I'd like to clear up, first, is what our team was doing there."

Booth snorted, _Our team? OUR team? Bones is MY partner. Not part of YOUR team!_

Angela squeezed his hand, in an effort to calm his raging emotions.

Unaware of the anger seething through Booth, Hanks continued, "Our team was in Nyala, Sudan, in the region of Darfur. As you know, that region has witnessed conflict and devastating genocide. Our team was identifying remains in mass graves, distinguishing between the Fur, Masalit, and Zaghawa ethnic groups, and trying to help get an accurate death toll. Things are still unstable there, but since the Darfur Peace Agreement in May last year, the State Department has been negotiating with the Sudanese Government to get a team in there to recover and identify as many remains as possible. Which is where Dr. Brennan and her team came in."

"The ambush, Hanks. What happened with the ambush? We don't need a history lesson." Booth spit out, through gritted teeth, his fists balling so tight his knuckles were turning white.

Hanks eyes shifted from Cullen, where they'd been locked throughout the speech, to Booth. Hanks could see the barely restrained anger bubbling below the surface.

Speaking smoothly, he replied, "For that, I'll introduce Special Agent Dan Foley with the CIA."

This grabbed Booth's attention very quickly, _CIA?_

"CIA? Why is the CIA involved? Did you have CIA over there??" Booth had risen abruptly from his seat, slamming his hands palms-down on the table, leaning menacingly forward toward Agent Foley.

Agent Foley stood, calmly. Angela would have thought him handsome, if he had any animation to his face. She noticed his demeanor, his attitude, was different than the men representing the State Department. Foley's face was blank, his eyes shuttered. He gave nothing away. Nothing that he didn't want you to know, anyway.

"Agent Booth. I know these last two days have been trying," Foley started, "but if you will give me a moment, I can explain in one sentence."

Booth sat, anger merely simmering, instead of boiling over. He nodded.

Foley walked deliberately toward Booth, not breaking eye contact with the angry FBI agent. "We had official-cover operatives there specifically to protect your Dr. Brennan. For Bones."

Cullen had to physically hold Booth back to keep him from hitting the CIA Officer. "No one… NO ONE… calls her Bones. But me. Just me. No one… Just me..."

Angela's emotions were raw anyway, but she was brought to tears, and then sobs, just hearing Seeley Booth's voice break.

* * *

_"Do you have everything, Bones?" he asked as he loaded her duffle into the back of the SUV. "This doesn't seem like much. What about your equipment?" _

_"Booth, the State Department air-mailed my equipment over a few days after I accepted the assignment. This," she indicated her duffle and her shoulder bag, "is only my personal stuff." _

_"Right. Do we have time for breakfast? What time's your flight?" _

_"There's no time Booth, I'm almost late as it is." She was nervous. They hadn't spent much time together in the last month, and she was suddenly aware of all the things that had been left unsaid over the years. It was as if all those unconscious touches and soft words weren't going to be enough to sustain her for the remainder of the year. She blinked back a few tears as she climbed into the truck. _

_Booth sighed. He only had the thirty minute drive to Dulles International Airport to explain why he had been avoiding her, and why – all of a sudden – he wanted to take her to the airport. He wasn't sure he could explain himself, or even knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wished it were as easy as saying I love you. But the years of denial had prevented him from saying anything about it. It was too late now. _

_She stared resolutely out of the passenger window. If she looked at him, she might cry. Or worse, she might not get on the plane. _

_All too soon, they had arrived at the drop-off zone, and all the things she had wanted to say fell away. She was out of time. After loading her duffle onto a trolley, she turned to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes, and she blinked furiously to dispel them. _

_One glance at her watery eyes, and Booth pulled her into a fierce hug. She relaxed immediately, once again wondering at the way she always felt safe in his arms. If she believed in letting emotions rule, she would have mentioned this to him long ago. _

_She released a big sigh, which caused Booth to release her. Standing back a step, he held her at arms length, and stared as if memorizing her face. She suddenly felt silly, letting out a small chuckle, "Booth. This isn't goodbye. It's only eight months." _

_"Okay. I'm not saying goodbye, then. How about see you soon?" _

_"I'm okay with that." She nodded. _

_Releasing her shoulders, Booth stepped back again, to return to the car, and Brennan took a chance in that last moment. Whatever came over her, she blamed Angela. _

_She grabbed a small package from her shoulder bag; she pressed it to his chest, bringing her body with it, whispering in his ear, "Seeley, you're my forever." She placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. All of this happened within a matter of seconds, and Booth did not have time enough – or sense enough – to respond. Whatever came over him, he was blaming shock. Or that damn denial. _

_She whirled around, and entered the airport, pushing her luggage in front of her. Once inside, she flipped her phone open, using it for the last time while she was still State-side. Her text message was to Angela: I told him that. _

_Booth, still in a bit of shock, climbed back into the truck, turning the box over in his hands. He pulled the top off; he found a picture frame, and a black and white photo within. The photo showed two people, standing outside of a diner, the man's finger under the woman's chin. He was gazing down at her lovingly, and her look of wonder spoke volumes. Booth remembered that moment as one of the many where he'd almost kissed Bones, and vaguely wondered who took it. It must have been taken through the glass of the diner. _

_He moved his eyes from the photo to the frame itself. Engraved on the silver frame were the words: _

_"I believe in forever." _

_

* * *

_**AN: **Think Fox will hire me? Too sappy? Damn. 


	4. How Many

**AN:** It continues... Shout outs at the end.

**Disclaimer: **Dear Fox, Please disregard previous disclaimer about jumping the shark, and not having Cam (I respect your writing choices. See? Cam was in the last chapter!). I promise to be more aware of the ridiculous, but seemingly necessary, tension created by Booth and Brennan not being together. I give my word that any future story will not include any "realization of feelings". But you have to admit, I've got the angst thing down.

* * *

**How Many?**

* * *

After allowing several minutes for Angela to compose herself, Agent Foley continued. 

"As I've said, we had two official cover operatives there to protect Dr. Brennan. One, Andrew Manor, was shot in the ambush, but is now at Ramstein Air Base in recovery. Everything we know we've discovered from him and other survivor accounts."

Angela looked up from the tissue in her hands, "How many?"

Foley blinked, as if unused to being interrupted. "How many what?"

She met his gaze, teary, but unwavering, "How many survivors? How many dead? How many missing?" She took a deep breath, "How many?"

Foley responded without consulting his notes, "Six dead. Nine survivors have been retrieved from location and are at Ramstein. Two missing."

"Dr. Brennan is one of the missing. Who's the other? Do you expect them to be together? What is being done to recover them? Was there a contingency plan? Where were your State Department Security guys?" Cullen fired these questions off rapidly, and with intimidating force. Angela was surprised that Foley did not react.

Foley responded with a deliberately calm manner, which Angela supposed was why he got this job. "There was a security plan, in place in case of an ambush or something like it. That's why we only lost six, four of which were State Department security detail. Who fought back, by the way. But semi-automatic weapons usually find their mark."

Foley took a deep breath, and continued, "They were attacked at night, around ten-thirty. Turns out, the attackers chose the wrong night. The team usually went to bed around ten, rising with the sun. Saturday night was someone's birthday, so they were celebrating, and weren't in their tents – where several grenades ended up. The six that died were shot. The nine that survived followed the plan, and escaped to a predetermined location, where we were able to pick them up."

"And the two who went missing?" pressed Cullen, worried about Booth's silence throughout the explanation.

"Dr. Brennan and Samantha Rollins, CIA," Foley responded evenly.

Suddenly alert, Booth straightened in his chair, "Sam? The anthropologist who cooks? She and Bones take walks after dinner." Booth's eyes clouded, "Took. Took walks after dinner."

"Stop it, Seeley," Cam hissed. To Foley, she asked, "Dr. Brennan is missing with a CIA Agent? Did she know this Sam Rollins was an Agent?"

Foley kept his eyes on Booth, though Cam had asked the question. "It is unlikely Dr. Brennan knew Rollins was CIA. However, Agent Booth's information about the two taking walks has been corroborated by our second agent-on-scene, Agent Manor, and it is our hope that they were on a walk when the ambush occurred. It is our hope they're together."

"As for recovery, we're doing satellite scans of the area, and we have several friendlies on the ground who are keeping their ears open about two women. We have a team ready to go once we've located them."

Angela was confused, "Friendlies keeping their ears open?"

Booth muttered the answer, angrily. "Locals who are friendly to us, listening to local gossip. He's referring to finding out if they've been kidnapped," Booth ground out that last word, as if it caused him physical pain when said.

Foley nodded, "Exactly, Agent Booth."

"Kidnapped?" Angela whispered in horror, her body frozen at the thought. It was Booth's turn to grasp Angela's hand to try to offer comfort.

"The attacks in that area have not resulted in any kidnappings, so that avenue is unlikely, but we're still looking into it," Foley's response lacked any sympathy, and Booth was becoming agitated again. "We're also listening for any news of two foreign women traveling together in that area."

Foley paused, apparently aware of the tension in the room. "Why don't we take a fifteen minute break, Director Cullen? After that, I'd like to go over some things that may have been brought up in the phone calls to Agent Booth and Miss Montenegro."

* * *

_She'd been gone two weeks. Two weeks today. Booth had been replaying his last minutes with Bones in his mind the entire two weeks. He was still kicking himself for not saying anything to her in response. _

_Forever. He was her forever. _

_The thought made his heart beat a little faster, but also hit him with a pang of sadness. It would be seven and a half months before he saw her again. _

_Angela had stopped by last Friday morning; Brennan had called. Booth wasn't sure why, but he was a little jealous that Angela had gotten the first phone call. But only just a little. _

_He didn't respond, after all. His denial for the past year was coming back to bite him in the ass. He kept thinking; maybe if he'd said something, she wouldn't have gone. But, in his heart, he knew her and knew she would have gone anyway. It was what she did. He knew that from the very beginning, from the Guatemala incident. He grinned at the memory. _

_His smile faded, as his glance rested once again on the silver picture frame that rested on his desk. He reached his left hand out to trace the words, reciting them in his head. I believe in forever. _

_It was her way of saying I love you, he was sure of that. And he hadn't the sense to say anything back. Let the metal kicking commence in 3, 2, 1… _

_Riiiing. _

_"Booth," he barked into the phone; he really didn't want to be interrupted. It was late, after seven, and he had spent enough of his workday lost in thought about Bones. He was behind on his paperwork because of it. _

_The other end of the line was almost silent. Almost. The line crackled with the tell tale sound that indicated a very long distance phone call. His heart flipped, and he held his breath. Hoping. Just hoping. _

_"Seeley?" _

_"Bones," his reply wasn't a question; it was more like a sigh. _

_"Booth. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you?" _

_"Better now, Bones. Much better now." She could practically hear him grinning down the phone. "You being safe over there?" wherever there is, he thought to himself. _

_"Of course. You know I can take care of myself." _

_"Bones," his voice was almost a groan, almost a warning. It amazed him how they could easily slip back into their old ways of verbal sparring. _

_She laughed, and he let it wash over him. "Booth. You know there's a whole team of State Department Security here. And if I didn't know any better, some of the guys in town are UN Peacekeepers. And when I say town, I mean seven huts and an open air market. Angela called it the 'lap of luxury', though I'm sure she was being sarcastic." _

_Her good mood was contagious, and Booth knew she was enjoying her work over there. She'd let slip a piece of information though, and he was going to figure out where she was. UN Peacekeepers? _

_"Yes she was, and I wanna know all about it, Bones. Tell me the story," Booth leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes, prepared to stay on the phone as long as possible. _

_"I can't tell you much, Booth, you know that. But what I can tell you is that I made a friend. A young anthropologist from New York, named Sam." _

_Booth felt a tug at his stomach. Sam? "You made a friend? Bones, I'm impressed," his lighthearted tone did not hold any of the jealousy he suddenly felt. _

_"Yes. I assumed you'd be proud of me. Sam's just received her masters. This is her first assignment in the field since graduation. I guess you could say she's my new Zach." _

_Booth released the breath he was holding. Sam's a girl. Thank God. "You teaching her all kinds of science stuff?" _

_"Science Stuff? Booth, that's so technical of you," Brennan's amusement was evident in her voice. _

_"You know me, Bones. I leave all the technical stuff to you," Booth joked. _

_"I know. How are you doing with Dr. Addy? Is he holding up his end?" _

_"Yeah, Bones. He's pretty great. But he's not you." _

_There was silence on her end, and for a brief moment, Booth thought the line had gone dead. _

_He heard her shaky inhalation as she continued the conversation, ignoring her momentary lapse in composure. "I knew he'd do well. He's a smart kid. Sam really reminds me of him. Maybe I'll introduce the two of them when I get back." _

_"Oh, no, Bones. One matchmaker is enough. Leave it to Angela, she's the professional," Booth chuckled. _

_Her deep laugh sounded in his ears, and he felt calm knowing she was safe and happy. "Seeley, I never said anything about matchmaking. I was merely intoning that they would have common interests, being of the same age and scholastic inclination." _

_"There's the Bones I know," and love, he thought. She called me Seeley. "I miss those convoluted sentences." _

_"I miss you too, Booth." _

_Booth was shocked into silence for a brief moment, and again, that moment was enough to carry the conversation away from him _

_"Booth, I have to go. I don't know how I lucked into getting two phone calls per week, but I'm not going to complain or abuse the privilege. I'll call again next Monday." _

_"I'll see you soon, Temperance." His response was automatic, his subconscious recalling their parting words at the airport. _

_"You too, Seeley." _

_Booth was struck by her openness and honesty. He really hadn't expected it from her to begin with, and now that she'd surprised him twice, and he hadn't responded twice, he was going to kick himself twice as hard for the next week. He promised himself he'd tell her next week. _

_He replaced the handset of the phone, his eyes drawn to the picture for what felt like the millionth time. The paperwork forgotten, he jumped from his chair, grabbing his coat and pushing a few buttons on his phone on the way out the door. _

_"Angela?" _

* * *

**Authorette Shout Outs:**

For being my first review: Thank You** Mockingbird84!**

For approving the "Admission by Bones" in chapter 2, a big thanks to **MissBennet (**such denial by Booth!), **emmastar** (I'm sticking with the title I think), **bandbfan24** (oh you make me laugh, thanks for the great review), **KristiM **(she IS a genius! and i'm so glad you'll be a reference to Fox for me. hehe), **Myralee8** (I like your super-promise!), & **statler** (glad you think she's not emotionally ignorant either!).

And MORE THANKS to **Alanna** (I'm glad you like the char emotions), **polopanic** (made me happy to see your words), **boneswhisper** and **dizzysteps2u** and **lemlee **(I'll keep the chappies comin' if you keep the reviews comin'),** saturn567** (for being a faithful reviewer!), **Meg **(hire me? Sure! Whatcha got?), and **Julia** (Oh there will def be a Brennan/Sam adventure – can ya wait a few chapters?).

**You know what to do, friends!! Push that shiny purple button.**


	5. Just Like Any Other Tuesday

**AN:** Can I get a WHOOP WHOOP! Soooo… Quick thanks to **jambled** who gave me a word in the review ("unshowered" of all words) and that turned into the mud fight. If you can't tell, I'm not so far ahead in this story. _sigh_

**Disclaimer:** Dear Fox, I have not, as of yet, heard from your HR department. Please be aware that I am currently being headhunted by CBS to write for CSI: NY. While I'd prefer to write for Bones, a girl has to eat. A major deciding factor would be compensation and incentives. For example: give me David Boreanaz as an end-of-year bonus...

**

* * *

Just Like Any Other Tuesday

* * *

**

Booth sat at the bar, shoulders slumped, head down. He had been nursing the beer in front of him for so long, the condensation had puddled beneath his wrists, and the amber liquid inside the bottle was now warm. The day's events ran through his mind as he tried to ignore the dull throbbing behind his eyes.

He had run the gamut of emotions within a five hour period, and he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was take a heavy sedative, crawl into bed, and forget everything he ever knew. Booth figured it would be easier than actually having to face this new world. A world without Bones.

But, he couldn't. He couldn't avoid and he didn't want to forget. He needed to be fully conscious in case anything happened. If she was found. In case she was found. When she was found. _However_ she was found. And he had to be prepared for that '_however'._

He and Angela had gone through every phone conversation with Brennan since she left. Foley had taken them through everything: from greetings to goodbyes, information to endearments. It was the endearments that had made him cringe. Somehow, throughout the eight months, he'd never told her. He'd even gotten angry at Angela for having said those three little words to her in their last phone conversation. And now he was terrified that she'd never know how much he loved her.

Booth was seconds away from losing it in a public place, when Dr. Jack Hodgins stepped through the door, calling his name. Booth did not respond. He was so lost in thought he didn't notice Hodgins until he was seated at the barstool next to him, placing a firm hand on Booth's shoulder.

"Hey, man."

Booth straightened in his seat, clearing his throat to ward off the disturbing emotions running dangerously close to the surface. Not raising his head, Booth responded with a grunt.

"Look, I know we're not… the _best_ of friends," Hodgins started, and then paused, unsure of where he wanted to go with this. "But, I – if there's anything I can do…" Hodgins sighed. Booth was staring directly at the beer in front of him, seemingly ignoring everything around him, including Hodgins.

"Booth. We all love Brennan. We're all hurting and scared right now. But, I know it's different for you. For whatever reason, it's harder for you. I know that. So, if you need anything…" he tried again, shrugging his right shoulder as he dropped his hand from the agent's shoulder.

Booth dropped his chin to his chest, releasing a great breath. There was little noise in the bar at four o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon, yet Hodgins almost missed the response.

"That means a lot. You're a good friend, Jack." Hodgins smiled, sadly, turning back to the bar in front of him with the intention of ordering a beer and keeping his friend company. But, before Hodgins could draw the attention of the bartender, Booth's phone shrilled, demanding attention.

"Booth."

Within seconds, Booth had jumped off the barstool and practically sprinted toward the door, like a man on a mission. Hodgins watched in surprise for a brief moment, and then quickly followed after dropping some cash on the bar. By the time he'd gotten outside, Booth was already across the street, about ready to climb into his SUV. _Man that guy can move._

"Booth! What is it?" Hodgins called across traffic.

Booth turned; his hand on the door handle, and his face hopeful, "They've got something."

* * *

Dr. Temperance Brennan had been in horrific situations before. She'd had her life threatened, several times. She'd been beaten to within an inch of her life. She'd been buried alive. She'd had to cut open a good friend. She'd been kidnapped, tied up, and almost fed to dogs. She'd seen her best friend blown up. 

But she'd never been as scared as she was on Saturday night, when she'd heard the explosions and gunfire. She'd frozen, at first, but only for a brief second, and suddenly the rush of adrenaline brought her into action. Fight or flight.

Sam had grabbed her hand, and both women with a glance, decided at that moment it was going to be flight. And over the last 72 hours, the adrenaline had been enough to keep Temperance awake and alert.

But, now sitting in a boxcar amidst all the textiles being transported from Nyala to Port Sudan for export, her eyes became heavy. As her eyes began to droop, she wondered absently why she had been as terrified as she was. More scared than any other situation. She was still scared, but couldn't place why.

Shaking herself, she turned to Sam, concerned that the train hadn't left yet. But, Sam had already succumbed to sleep. Temperance wactched her for a moment, studying her breathing. It was rhythmic; normal. Temperance gave a sigh of relief; they both had been through quite a bit in the last few days. She didn't want to think about all their close calls. Finally, the train began to move, swaying soothingly. As it picked up speed, the clackity-clack of the wheels on the rails was an eerie comfort Temperance. She was being taken away and she was thankful.

Glancing around at the array of blankets and clothing, Temperance made the decision. It was at least a 7 day journey by rail to the port city, and Sam had assured her this train was not stopping for at least twelve hours. She pulled a blanket around herself and Sam, and allowing herself to give up the struggle, Temperance fell into unconsciousness .

* * *

_Laughing, Sam and Temperance jogged away from the mud fight. After Dr. Andrew Baines had dropped the jug of water on the ground, Paul Freemont had grabbed a handful of the now wet dirt, and thrown it at the birthday boy who had caused the spill. Andrew retaliated, and under the glow of the numerous lanterns, the entire team had entered the war. Luckily, Sam and Temperance had been on 'clean-up' from dinner, and had missed the ruckus. They were able to escape without a speck of mud. Though the dirt smudges across their faces couldn't be helped. The area near Tumko was somewhat sandy._

_Slowing to a walk, Temperance glanced at her new friend, the grin stuck to her face. Her cheeks hurt from laughing. She couldn't remember having this much fun on assignment before. On previous assignments, she'd maintained her detached demeanor, and kept her distance from the remainder of the team. She had thought this was the best way to maintain professionalism; but had missed out on the camaraderie that followed. But, in the last year, she'd been more and more open to befriending new people, like Sam; and in turn, they had befriended her right back. She tripped over air as she realized it was because of Booth that she had been more open; and, subsequently, had made friends with her new crew. She made a mental note to thank him in the call she would make in a few hours. And she was really looking forward to that call._

"_Whoo." Sam released a breath, trying to calm her mirthful giggles. "You'd never guess those guys had such high IQs. So immature." Sam rolled her eyes, in complete imitation of Temperance. "So, Dr. Brennan, what are we learning tonight?"_

"_How many times have I told you to call me Temperance?" The two women made the several hundred yard trek in the dark toward the work site; the terrain was familiar and they could have done this with their eyes closed. _

"_Not enough times. One day I will."_

"_One day? When?" Receiving a small smile, Temperance waved her hand in a small motion, as if dismissing her own question. "Tonight, I thought you might want to go back over the –" Brennan's suggestion was interrupted by a large explosion two hundred yards behind them. Turning, they saw several men in open jeeps, one throwing grenades toward the tents, and two others firing weapons toward their friends._

_Sam grabbed her hand. Fear was evident on both their faces, and the decision was made quickly and without words. Without a second glance, they took off, away from the gunfire and into the darkness.

* * *

_

**AN:** **CBS doesn't _really _want me for CSI: NY, but...Shhhh... don't tell Fox. But DO tell me what you think! Review!**

**Shoutouts: **for all those that reviewed thanks! **jambled** (the present and the flashback are really close to meeting up, you're right, though this wasn't my intention when I began this! Don't you love it how fics sometimes write themselves?), **MissBennet** (I'm not so sure if there is a "why" for what's happening to Temperance... I think it just "is"), **annlu73** (Thanks! hope you like this one too), **lemlee** (I feel sad for Booth too, but the poor guy is in such denial, he almost begs to be tormented), **Mockingbird84** (I'm a big fan of their banter, and I'm trying to be a pro - but Fox won't hire me...), **Emma6373** (I figured, that once Brennan figured it out herself, she wouldn't hold back. She'd try to get what she wanted starting right away, even if she was leaving for awhile), and **statler** (I'm sure Othello was fine being back-burner'd. In fact, I believe anyone doing anything Shakespeare has procrastinated from doing it at least once. I know I have... Darn Julius Ceasar. Darn him to heck.)


	6. Satellites

**AN:** So. We all know Brennan made it to Tuesday. She made it to the train. But Booth doesn't know. And what really happened between the gunfire and the train? Sam's CIA?? You want to know? Read on, McDuff (Not Othello,** statler**, but Billy Shakes, nonetheless).

**Disclaimer:** I would like to tell you that Fox has been really impressed with my writing. I would like to tell you that they contacted me and suggested I send out a portfolio. I would like to tell you that they're offering me a position as Staff Writer for _Bones_. I would like to tell you that they're willing to pay a ridiculous amount of money. And while we're at it… I would like a pony.

**

* * *

Satellites

* * *

**

Hodgins followed Booth, his red Mini almost bumper to bumper with the FBI issued SUV. Approaching the Hoover building, Hodgins was surprised when Booth waved him into the parking garage. The guard Booth had been talking to barely gave Hodgins a second glance when he pulled through the gate, and Booth pointed out his open window toward visitor parking. Hodgins could hear Booth's command yelled through his own rolled up window, "Wait by your car."

He leaned up against the driver side door, nervously jangling his keys in his hands. It was now when he wondered if he should call Angela; he hadn't had time to think about it while he was driving. He'd been too busy trying to keep up with Booth. His next thought concerned what 'something' they were coming to see. _Please don't let it be bad news._

The door to the stairway opened and he could see Booth's head poke out around the doorframe, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Well? Come on! Let's go!" Hodgins followed quickly, and before he could ask the questions he wanted to, Booth answered for him as he handed Hodgins his visitor's pass. "Angela, Cam, and Zach should already be here. The CIA guy's got something off of the satellite scans. But, I don't know what."

Striding across Booth's floor, the two made it to the conference room in what would have been record time, had they been counting. Booth threw open the glass door, shaking the attached blinds, startling Angela so much she jumped.

"We waited for you, Booth, before viewing the footage," Cam started, sounding sympathetic. She hadn't had the same relationship with Brennan as the rest of the team had, but Brennan was her employee. They had been getting along pretty well since the Howard Epps case. Cam thought it was because Booth had convinced Brennan to go easy on her, or maybe because she had been a victim of Epps, but she didn't really care about the reason. She was just happy to have a less than hostile working environment.

Booth merely nodded at Cam, and patted Angela's shoulder comfortingly, before taking a seat next to Cullen, who ordered the tech to start the satellite footage. Foley, who had been observing the group dynamic from the front of the room, began explaining what they were seeing. "This is footage from the only satellite recording at the time. It's not what we hoped for; it's not night vision," Foley paused, "Brace yourselves; this is footage of the attack."

The black and white footage was grainy, difficult to visualize. Angela absently wondered if the Angelator would provide a better picture. It was several minutes in before she fully comprehended what she was seeing. A small gasp escaped her mouth, and her eyes teared up as she saw the first explosion in what used to be a tent. Hodgins stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders for comfort. Three more explosions had followed, and in the empty space between blasts, rapid-fire sparks indicated semi-automatic weapons in use. Zach turned his head away, his eyes holding unshed tears.

The small glow that had surrounded the camp had faded; the lanterns destroyed by this point. However, the headlights of the jeeps came on as they sped away, and for a brief moment, illuminated what remained of the camp.

Booth's face was ashen, but his voice was steady when he demanded, "I need to see it again. From the beginning. Point out the people."

Foley nodded to the tech, who started it again.

"Here, you can see the camp," Foley pointed, "several tents. The people are difficult to make out unless they're standing right next to a light source. Here you see several people, maybe five or six, as they move quickly across this space. Here are perhaps two, walking slowly away from the camp, toward the dig site, which is somewhere over here. We don't see the jeeps because they had their headlights off as they approached but they're right about here and - "

Booth stood, interrupting the CIA agent, and ironically squinting at the screen. His voice was strong, "Rewind it. Just a few seconds. Rewind it."

The tech followed his command, and Booth watched intently. "That's Bones. There. That's her."

Foley turned to the FBI agent, with his eyebrows raised. Booth was standing rigidly with his hands on his hips; challenging the CIA agent with his body language, seemingly saying, _I dare you to refute that. I dare you to tell me that's not Temperance._

Foley tilted his head, as if studying Booth, before commenting, "I thought so too. Her and Rollins. Walking away. The bad news…" his voice trailed off. The stoic man finally showing some emotion on his face as he dropped his eyes briefly before meeting Booth's again, "That's the same direction the jeeps went."

The only external sign that Booth had heard him was his jaw clenching. His eyes remained fixed on Foleys, as he stood with his hands balled on his hips. Inside, he was furiously running through emotions: shock, as his body quickly flashed cold; then terrified, angry, and heartbroken; before beginning to sweat as the understanding sank in.

His gaze lingered on the paused video, before he turned to Cullen; his voice was solid and demanded compliance. "I'm going."

* * *

_They had run. As fast as they could, while trying not to be noticed, they had run. Constantly checking to be sure the other was right next to – or right behind – them, they had run. Temperance found she was following Sam. And they weren't going to the planned pickup location. Location Green was the other direction. Through the gunfire._

_The arid, semi-desert climate provided no cover, and Temperance knew the closest 'town' was four miles away. She was grateful that she'd kept in shape as they sprinted toward the dig site, where there was a small hut. Both women were well aware that the gunfire and explosions behind them had stopped. _

_Sam, glancing over her shoulder, spoke in a hushed tone. "This way. We'll go to the well by the dig. They may look in the main tent if they think we're out here."_

_Sam opened the door to the small building that protected the well from the elements. They ducked inside as they heard the vehicles slowly approach. The wooden walls did not meet the sand below, leaving a foot of space. Temperance sat on the well-wall, and pulled her feet up; Sam quickly followed suit. They watched as the headlights drew nearer, slowing their approach as they reached the well. Temperance held her breath as the beams seemed to stop on the floor below her feet. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. _

_Temperance began repeating a simple phrase over and over again, as she stared at the lights at her feet. _Please, don't let them find us. Please, don't let them find us. _She wasn't sure who she was talking to; not until the lights began to move again, leaving the two women alone in the dark._

_Temperance released the breath she was holding, breathing out her relief. "Thank God."_

_Sam, who had been holding her own breath with her blue eyes closed, responded, "I thought you didn't believe in God, Temperance."_

"_Oh, so now you'll call me Temperance? And I don't believe in an All-Powerful Being, it's just a commonly-used expression to convey relief."_

"_Of course." Temperance could tell that Sam's response was automatic, that Sam was no longer listening to her. She shifted to try to see Sam's face, but in the darkness it was near impossible._

"_What is it, Sam?"_

"_I don't know who they were, what they wanted, or if they're coming back. I'm supposed to know. I'm supposed to know. I had no intelligence. This was not expected, at all."_

"_Sam. Of course it wasn't expected, that's why it's called an ambush." Temperance paused, the realization of what Sam had just said settling in the darkness. "What do you mean you were supposed to know? You had no intelligence?"_

_Sam let out an audible sigh, weighing her words. Her tone of voice became serious, which was almost opposite of the woman she had been before the incident only twenty minutes ago. "Temperance. You need to trust me right now, especially because of the situation we're in. And I'm worried, if I tell you what I need to tell you right now, you will not trust me anymore."_

_Temperance sat, completely still, absolutely stunned by the change in demeanor of the woman who had been her friend these eight months._

"_I need you to trust me, no matter what I tell you. Is that possible?"_

_Temperance closed her eyes. "I don't know. It really depends on what you have to tell me."_

"_I've mislead you, Temperance. I'm not really an anthropologist. I almost was, but I was recruited away from science."_

"_Then what are you?" Temperance knew. She knew what was coming. She knew this woman in front of her was government. Her instincts had been telling her this the entire eight months. But she didn't believe in her 'gut'. She should have._

"_CIA."_

"_Right." Temperance spat out, in disgust. She was unsure if she was more disgusted with Sam for lying to her, or more disgusted with herself for not seeing this coming._

"_Is your name even Samantha Rollins? Are you even from New York?" She tried not to sound hurt or betrayed, and focused on being angry._

"_My name really is Samantha Rollins. I am originally from New York. I work out of DC now. I am 27-years-old, just like I told you. My undergraduate degree IS in forensic anthropology. But, I don't have a master's degree. I've been working with the CIA since I was 22."_

_Temperance snorted, so lost in this betrayal she forgot where she was. She dropped her feet to the dirt below, stood, and slammed open the door to the tiny building. She didn't know where she was going, but she had to get away. _

Lied to. I was lied to_. She could hear Sam curse at the noise, and follow her out of the building. "You lied to me."_

"_Yes. I'm under official-cover. I, and Drew Manor, we're here for you. We're here to protect you."_

_Temperance stopped cold, turning to Sam. "Drew too? Fabulous. More lies. Well, I don't need to be protected. I don't know why you people insist that I do."_

"_You people?? Well, your casefile told me otherwise. What happened in the warehouse? Who blew up your refrigerator? New Orleans? Please tell me you didn't bury yourself in your own car." Sam was hitting below the belt, she knew, but she had to get through to this stubborn woman. They had to work together. They had to get out of Tumko. And fast._

_With each accusation, Temperance flinched, remembering – not herself in these situations – but Booth. Booth was always there to protect her, whether she wanted him there or not. These memories, and the accusations thrown at her, caused an extreme burst of anger. "You have no idea what happened leading up to those events! How can you –"_

"_No, you're right," Sam interrupted, concerned about too much noise in the night's silence. "I don't know what happened. But, I want to know. You can tell me. But now, Temperance, right now this is all we've got. You and me." Sam paused, cocking her head to the side, "You hear that?"_

_Temperance stilled, listening. "I hear nothing, Sam."_

"_Exactly. We should be able to hear things from the camp from here. But no. Nothing. It's just you and me now."_

_Temperance sighed. And Sam took that as acceptance of what she'd just said. _"_I'm going to ask you again. Can you trust me?"_

_Temperance had convinced herself that she was used to being alone. And she had believed it, up until Booth. She knew how to respond to threatening situations, but only with a partner. With someone she trusted. With Booth. But could she trust Sam? Not now. Not now that she didn't know who she really was. Temperance sighed, weighing her options. On the one hand, she could take care of herself. In most situations, anyway. In this situation, though, she realized the benefits of having someone to watch her back. _

_So, Temperance answered her in true Bones-style. _

_"I think there are some supplies and a backpack still at the dig site. Location Green will be compromised if we go there now; and we'll put the others in danger. It's just you and me now."

* * *

_

**Ok, kiddos. Review? Please?**

**AN:** So I was thinking about it… It's really only been 24 hours for Booth, since he found out. I guess he was in shock and that's why he hadn't thought of going to get her until now? Maybe he didn't think it was an option? I dunno. But, in this fic, that's when Booth decided to go. **But the question remains: If Foley even lets him go, who does Booth take with him? **

**Shoutouts! **

**KristiM** (I'm posting as fast as I'm writing!),

**bandbfan24** (I let out a squee when I got your review. I'm glad you're liking the emotion I'm trying to write! And yes, I see Hodgins too, with concern all over his face and his fabulous blue eyes),

**statler **(yay college is right. I'm trying to graduate and this fic keeps distracting me…),

**QueenPeacock** (I'm glad you like!),

**jambled** (Such a long review! How lucky am I?! Big ol' sugary sweet snaps to you. Sam and the CIA thing plays out here, but I'm not sure how much I like it. I'm trying to have Dr. B rationalize not going off on her own, but seeing as I'm not entirely a rational person… Anywho, the reuniting scene is going to rock. Just have to figure it out. And I think Brennan will have to talk through the 'why' of her terrif-ication – is this a word? – or terrified state with someone. Prolly Sam at this point.),

**Serendipity73** (thank you, and I'm hurrying, I promise! J Plot bunny seems to be on vacation right now…darn thing),

**MissBennet** (I bet your curiosity will hate me at this juncture… but at least it's not really a cliffy ending on this chap, hehe),

**YouandMeKelly** (Thanks! It's sad bc we're torturing poor Booth. And he's too gorgeous to go through too much of this. I think I'll have to give him a piece of something soon.),

**I-Don't-Know-What-That-Means** (Thanks!),

**RedRoses18** (Thanks for the addition to faves! I'm glad you found my story, and I'm glad you're enjoying it so much. Really makes my day!!! Though I did worry that the pic was a bit sappy… oh well.)


	7. A Sentiment and a Prayer

**AN:** Oh friends! Serious apologies! I have only myself to blame (and finals and graduation...) I promise to be more "on top" of things now that I'm done. I owe you all some great love stories now. See my new 3-parter for some BB hot fluff (the hot part to be posted this week). :)

**Disclaimer:** Dear Fox, I appreciate your cliffhanger for the season finale. I have SO MANY ideas as to what happens. You guys sure you don't want to hire me? Really, I'm a great writer - please see my wonderful reviews if you don't believe me...

* * *

**A Sentiment and a Prayer**

* * *

She couldn't do this without Booth. She'd waited; she'd made the rest wait too. He had to see it with them. But he hadn't come back to his office after he'd gotten permission from Cullen to fly out Wednesday. They had left a message with his office. They had left a message on his cell phone. "It went straight to voicemail," Zach had announced. That's when Angela realized where he'd be. The one place he would turn off his cell phone. 

Pulling open the solid wooden door of St. Patrick's, Angela stared reverently at her surroundings, taking in the shamrock inlay in the vestibule, the multiple marble statues of saints, and the beautiful Celtic crucifix in the sanctuary. Angela found him in the third row, on his knees, his forearms resting on the pew in front of him and his forehead resting on his folded hands.

The soft tap of her heels echoed around the marble room as she approached him; she could see his eyes were closed, but his lips were moving with silent prayer. Not wanting to interrupt his conversation with God, she sat in the row behind him, knowing full well he was aware of her presence. She took this moment to immerse herself in the hushed calm of the church, attempting to find solace in the sights, sounds, and smells that uniquely identified this as a place of worship.

Angela sent up a silent prayer of her own, asking that Brennan be found safe. She did not use poetic words or traditional prayer; she was not religious like Booth. She just came right out and asked for it. _Send her back to us. Make them safe. Keep them from harm. Send her back to us. __Please__. Please._

She was unsure of how long she sat there, but eventually, Booth raised his head, made the sign of the cross, and stood. Meeting her eye as he passed, Angela could see traces of tears in his eyes, which were also laden with determination and hope. She followed him onto the bustling streets of downtown Washington, DC.

"What do you have? Did you find out something?"

Booth's questions came in conjunction with the heavy wooden doors of the church closing with a soft thud. He expected her to fall into step with him as he made his way down the stairs and onto 10th Street, heading back to the Hoover building.

"Yes, there is something, but it's not what you think, Booth. I got a letter from Brennan, and I thought you would like to see it."

Booth's questioning look prompted her to continue, "It's a video letter, Booth, addressed to all of us. I have it set up at the Jeffersonian."

* * *

Booth ran his hands through his hair, almost agitated at the normalcy of everyday business being conducted around the Jeffersonian. _Don't they know that a squint – one of their own – is missing? Don't they care?_

In Angela's office, he found everyone gathered. Remarkably, no one was talking or moving; their stillness a telling contrast to the activity of the rest of the building. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, but raised their heads in a collective acknowledgement that he and Angela had arrived. He threw himself into a chair as Angela started the CD.

On the screen Booth watched as Brennan's face appeared, full frame, her brow furrowed as she seemingly fiddled with something on the camera. Her face retreated as she sat down on a chair behind a desk, revealing a non-descript, cream coloured canvas as a backdrop rippling in the winds. She was now smiling brightly.

"Hi Angela, Booth, Hodgins, Zach, Cam!" Brennan waved at the camera.

"I know this is unexpected, but I really wanted to see you. As that wasn't going to happen, the only thing I could think of was to let you see me. And, yes, I know this is kind of against the rules. But, seeing as I only have two weeks left here, Sam and I estimate you will receive this _after_ I get home."

Booth sighed. She had recorded this not so long ago. Her estimation was incorrect. The mail had come quickly and she wasn't home yet.

"Things are progressing well, you'll be happy to hear. I'm accomplishing a lot. Sam is learning a lot. We plan on completing our assignment within the next two weeks, and I cannot wait to see you all again. Believe it or not, I miss you guys. Hodgins and Zach and your bug races, Angela annoying me with you-know-what, Cam relieving me of all the ones with skin."

"It's not the same conversing with the _hoi polloi_ gathered here, even if I do consider them an exceptional team." Brennan smiled softly, as if she held a secret.

"You know _hoi polloi_ but don't know kit-and-caboodle?" A woman's voice off-camera interrupted Brennan's verbal letter home.

Brennan glanced to the right of and over the camera, blinking at an off-screen person. "Well, I know snark when I hear it," she scoffed, though her smile contradicted the intended sarcasm.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm not entirely sure 'snark' is a word."

"Of course it is; it indicates a snide or derisive remark. It's also a graph in mathematics. I'm surprised you don't know that, Sam."

"I think you mean 'quark' – and that's particle physics."

"Particle physics aside, Sam, I'm in the middle of something here." She gestured toward the camera, her hand upturned, her elbow resting on the desk in front of her.

Angela smiled. She remembered Brennan mentioning that Sam reminded her of Zach, but this interaction was reminiscent of Booth and Brennan banter. Knowing what to look for, Angela recognized Sam's easily flip back and forth between CIA agent and learned anthropologist.

On screen, a blonde head popped into frame, covering part of Brennan's face. She smiled and waved. "Hi, guys. Sorry."

* * *

_Temperance grinned as Sam offered her apologies to people she had not met. Yet, she reminded herself. Hadn't met, YET. Temperance fully intended to introduce Sam to the staff at the Jeffersonian when they got back._

"_Yes, yes, I'm sure they accept your apology," Temperance pretended to be agitated as she pushed softly on Sam's left shoulder, effectively pushing her off-camera._

"_Oh, I'm sure they do, too. I only say that because you've told me all about them, and they seem like good people." Sam had raised her voice at this sentence, indicating she wanted to be sure the microphone could hear her._

_Temperance made a face in the direction she had pushed Sam, though she'd already left the tent, and light laughter could be heard. Her eyes returned to the camera, twinkling with mirth, as a slight blush crept over her cheeks._

"_Well, I guess you've just met Sam. And yes, I do talk about all of you. Booth, don't let that inflate your ego any more. I don't want to have to deal with an oversized ego when I get back."_

_Temperance smiled, knowing full well that Booth would be grinning from ear to ear to hear her mention his ego, continuing their banter even though they were oceans apart._

"_Not everything's been ideal, though. We have had several run-ins with … locals," Temperance knew she shouldn't be mentioning what happened, especially since her security had told her not to. But, for some reason, she wanted to let her friends know how she was feeling. But she tried not to sound too concerned; she didn't want Booth to do something crazy – like hop a plane and come get her._

"_It hasn't been bad, and our security detail has taken care of everything. We've been told that the disruptions won't happen again. So don't worry about me. Nothing's going to happen. And I'll be home soon, I promise."_

_Temperance rested her elbows on the desk, "When I get back, it's Wong Foo's on me. Then, there will be apple pie from the diner at my place. You have no excuse not to be there. I'll even supply the wine." She was looking forward to the best 'Welcome home' ever. This was one trip she'd taken where everything had gone smoothly, and she wanted to celebrate._

"_So, I'll see you guys in a few weeks." She paused briefly as she dropped her eyes to the table. She brought them to the camera again, and added a final thought, her voice almost breaking. "I miss you." Temperance brought her right hand down on the keyboard in front of her, stopping the recording, and blinked to try to rid herself of the tears that threatened. She looked up as she heard someone at the flap of her tent._

"_Hey." Sam stood there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised._

"_You had to go and interrupt the only recording I could have made, considering this was the only CD we had to spare…" Temperance tried to sound mad, but could hear the teasing in her voice._

_Sam's soft smile indicated she had something on her mind, and Temperance knew what was coming. She'd accidentally let slip her feelings for Booth during an altercation a few days ago with the men in the jeeps. She'd been avoiding Sam's questions on him for as long as she could. But, now, standing in the tent, Sam was curious._

"_Apologies, friend. I didn't mean to overhear… but now, I wonder. Who exactly do you miss?"_

* * *

**Shout outs!**

**BandBfan24** (I'm loving the reference to the superman music!)

**KristiM** (I love that you love this fic. Totally feeds my ego!)

**Mockingbird84** (Oh, something's def going to happen to Brennan. Drama, drama, drama!)

**YouandMeKelly** (Booth's so going. I still don't know who he's taking…)

**Miss Bennet** (Apologies for not posting "really soon" like you wanted. As stated above, finals and graduation got in the way! I'm on it now, though… )

**Juliet** (Thanks for giving me a chance! Any thoughts on how to spice up the summary??)

**Xxhopexx** (I am so glad this is one of your favourites!!)

**Stewierocks88 **(I am trying to keep characters as canon as possible… but then again, they did confess "feelings"… that's not really canon…)

**Luli27** (Welcome to the world of Bones… thanks for being a fantastic reviewer! I really appreciate the feedback and the suggestions!)

**Jerseybones** (Re: ch3. OMG. I didn't mean to make you cry! Re: you being stuck on 6 – yes, I know I'm disappointing, I really wanted to get this next chap up before finals, but that was a no-go. Please let me know what you think of 7, and anything you may/may not want to see…)

**Tonik2255** (It's a quick read, isn't it! We all know Booth is going to find Bones… or does Bones find Booth? Who rescues who?? I know, I'm evil sometimes…)


	8. Not Seeing Things

**AN:** Apologies, friends. I've been MIA. (begs forgiveness of those who have been such great reviewers and fellow fans) Next installment is below. Really hope you like it!!

**Disclaimer:** Dear Fox, I will promise more character development in the future - with regards to the supporting cast. All you have to do is promise me a staff writing position... sounds fair to me... :)

**

* * *

(Not) Seeing Things**_

* * *

_

_She had grabbed the three canteens of water, and began rummaging around in a box in the main tent at the dig site. With a relieved sigh, Temperance pulled out seven protein bars, and threw them into the knapsack along with the water. Sam had grabbed the poor excuse for a map of the area and two flashlights, which also went into the bag; the compass went into her pocket. She tossed a large pocket knife toward Brennan, who grabbed it out of the air, and shoved it into her hip pocket. Sam took her pocket knife, and began tearing away fabric from the tent._

_Temperance looked up, a curious expression on her face. Sam's response was simple, "Cover." Of course they would stand out in their khaki attire of cargo pants and tee-shirts. The tent was a thin, cream-coloured canvas, which Sam fashioned as a tunic-dress for each of them. She then tore two strips in which to wrap their heads. "It's not colorful, like the Thobe the women wear, but it will draw less attention. We can find some better clothes later. We should also smudge some dirt into our faces; it will help hide the fact that we're both obviously white."_

_Temperance wrapped herself in the fashion of the Sudanese women, following Sam's lead. "We cannot go back to camp to get money, so we're going to have to travel without," Sam revealed. "It's going to be difficult; we may need bribe money," she said, shaking her head._

"_Then it's a good thing I went to the Tumko market the other day," Temperance said, reaching into one of her pockets and pulling out a handful of Sudanese Dinar, and the new Sudanese Pound, and quickly counting. "We have 14 pounds, and 600 dinar. That should get us pretty far, don't you think?"_

"_Not as far as US dollars, but we can definitely make do," Sam replied. "We're going to Nyala. There's a UN safehouse there. They'll be able to get us out."_

_Temperance nodded, resolutely, as she split the money into different pockets. It was time to go. "We travel at night, and rest during the hottest part of the day. This will help us preserve our water supply; we only have three canteens, and they're full now."_

_Sam was standing next to the tent, facing North, staring at the compass. She pointed with her right hand, "We need to head Northeast. It's midnight now. We can be there by morning if we hurry."_

_The terrain was flat, dusty. With adrenaline pumping through their bodies, they made good time across the barren desert that night. There was little conversation, as both women were on alert for sounds of jeeps, or other people. The need to put distance between themselves and the campsite propelled them on._

_As the sky began to lighten, Temperance spoke, the question having been on her mind most of the night, "Do you speak Arabic, Sam?"_

_Sam raised her head, nodding, "I'm fluent, but my accent is off, so whomever I'm speaking with will know I'm not native. You?"_

_Temperance sighed, "About the same. Though, once we get into town, we should not speak English. We wouldn't want to give anything away."_

* * *

_The two walked down the market street, their heads down, and hands clasped beneath their robes; the townspeople were seemingly oblivious to the strangers in their vicinity. They made their way through the crowds, Sam only lifting her face to determine direction, Temperance following closely on her heels._

_Turning right down a small side street, the pair made their way toward the UN Peacekeepers location. They didn't make it very far. A large group had gathered in front of what used to be a two room mud-hut. The thatched roof had burned away, the contents of the hut scarred beyond recognition. The burn marks on the walls told told Temperance that an accelerant was used. Sam elbowed Temperance, jerking her head toward the remnants of the UN house. _

_Someone in the front of the crowd raised both hands in the air, shouting in triumph, "The fire got two of the pigs! They have left this earth!" Some in the crowd began to cheer. Others stood stock still, almost afraid to respond._

_But, Sam's shoulders slumped at those words. Speaking in French, Sam whispered over her shoulder, "They can't help us now. It's just you and me."_

_Temperance nodded, the sinking feeling in her stomach almost overwhelming her. Her mind kicked into overdrive. Options, they needed options._

_She spoke quietly, calmly, as if this was just any other day, revealing flawless French, "The airport?"_

_Sam gently placed her right hand against Brennan's left elbow, leading her away from the excitable crowd. "No, that won't work. Without UN backup, the airport here in Nyala will be under rebel control."_

"_So, what are our other options? Rail? Traveling by car would be too obvious, wouldn't it?"_

"_Yes, Temperance. I agree that we need to go by train. The problem is we don't exactly have a safe way out. We need to find someone who will hide us. We need to find Ramzi."_

_The women were well aware of everything in front of them as they made their way back to the market street. They were not vigilant, though, and failed to see a young man break off from the chanting crowd, and begin to follow them._

* * *

Wednesday... 

In less than 24 hours, Booth had said goodbye to Parker, Cullen and his squints. He'd promised Angela he'd call – even if there wasn't any new news. He'd made Zach promise to keep doing Bones' work and given him a solid pat on the shoulder. He'd even talked Hodgins out of stowing away on the C130 that was to take him (and some rather large equipment) to Ramstein. Cam had tried to offer comforting words, but she had known her concern was falling on deaf ears. He had returned her efforts with a half-cocked smile. He had known she was trying.

Now, dressed in fatigues, seated next to Dan Foley aboard a military plane, all Booth could think about was Bones. Not that he'd thought about anything else in the last 48 hours, but now it was really getting to him. He shook his head in an effort to clear his mind.

He sighed, and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the seat. They'd only just boarded the plane, and he was already starting to see things. He could have sworn he'd seen Max Keenan fastening the chains on a hum-v in the cargo hold.

* * *

**AN: **Based on May 2007 currency conversions, Sam and Temperance have about $10 US. 

**Doornumberthree** (thank you for your kind review! I am hoping to get to the supporting cast in the next chapter.) **Myralee **(Thank you for your support! I try to make things real life as possible) **Statler **(i wanted to send one of the squints, but i hope you can see who i've chosen to be Booth's partner...), **Beaglelvr** (I'm writing the rest, I promise!!) **Elliesmeow** (Thanks!!) **g8trgrrl** (I'm updating as ideas come! I'm sorry it took so long. Your review was much appreciated!) **Shelbers** (Thanks for your great review! And I'm so glad you've caught on to the combo that is Sam!) **Miss Bennet **(It's so great that you're understanding about being able to update. I just hope you guys still remember what happened!) **bb-4ever **(glad to have you reading my story! hope you liked this chappie) **Maxennce **(I went and listened to that song from placebo, and it's a great song! I happen to agree - and it's a pretty thought provoking song.) **splendid **(sorry it just 'ended', but it's not over yet! more chapters to come - but the timeline is ... suspect at best).


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